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Page 62
_Mrs. C.N._ You are most kind, sir, but I have a husband and one
_little_ child.
_Nokes._ Never mind that: he'll grow. There's room here for you and your
husband and the little child, even if he does grow. Where are they? Show
them up.
_Mrs. C.N. runs to window and calls, "Charles, Charles."_
_Nokes [aside]._ I think I've had quite as much champagne as is good for
me; just enough; the golden mean.
_Enter CHARLES with baby, which he holds at full stretch of his
arms._
_Nokes [indignantly]._ You young scoundrel! How dare you show your face
in this house?
_Mrs. C.N. [interfering]._ You sent for him, sir.
_Nokes._ I sent for nothing of the sort. I sent for your husband.
_Mrs. C.N._ That is my husband, sir, and our little child. You promised
us an asylum for life under your roof; and I am certain you will keep
your word.
_Nokes [to Susan, endeavoring to be severe]._ Now, this is all _your_
fault; and yet you promised me never to interfere on behalf of these
people.
_Susan_. Nor _did_ I, my dear husband. You have done it all yourself.
_Nokes [aside]._ It was all that last glass of champagne.
_Charles [giving up the baby to his wife, and coming up with
outstretched hand to his uncle]._ Come, sir, pray forgive me. I could
not enjoy your favors without your forgiveness, believe me.
_Nokes [holding out his hand unwillingly]._ There. [_Aside_] How _could_
I be such a fool, knowing so well what champagne is made of?--Well, sir,
if you have regained your place here, remember it has all happened
through your aunt's goodness. Let nobody ever show any of their airs to
my Susan.
_Charles and his wife [together]._ We shall never forget her kindness,
sir.
_Nokes._ Mind you don't, then. For, you see, it's to her own
disadvantage, since when I die--and supposing I have forgiven you--the
child that has to grow will inherit everything, and Susan only have a
life-interest in it.
_Charles [hopefully]._ I don't see that, sir. Why shouldn't you have
children of your own?
_Nokes [complacently]._ True, true. Why shouldn't we? I didn't like to
dwell upon the idea before, but why shouldn't we? At all events, Susan
[_comes forward with Susan_], I am sure I shall never repent having shot
at the pigeon--I mean, having wooed the Montmorenci, but won THE
SUBSTITUTE.
JAMES PAYN.
NEW YORK LIBRARIES
New York has been accused of being purely commercial in tone, and there
was a period in her history when she must have pleaded guilty to the
indictment. That day, however, is past: she has now many
interests--scientific, artistic, literary, musical--as influential as
that mentioned, though not perhaps numerically so important. Of the fine
arts the city is the acknowledged New World centre, and it is fast
forming a literary circle as noteworthy as that of any other capital.
The latter owes its existence in part, no doubt, to the great
publishing-houses, but has been attracted chiefly by the facilities for
research afforded by those great storehouses of learning, the city
libraries. Few old residents are aware of the literary wealth stored in
these depositories, or of the extent to which they are consulted by
scholars and by writers generally.
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